


Blink If You Hear Me

by egg_godd



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DBH, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, detroit: become human au, look at individual chapters for tw but i don’t think there will be many
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29519748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egg_godd/pseuds/egg_godd
Summary: Mark, one of the most influential men in the marketing industry for androids, finds himself in dire need of a dog sitter. With the controversial nature of his job, he can’t risk hiring a random stranger to watch his beloved Chica.But when he buys Ethan, a domestic-care android, off of a shady website, he soon learns that maybe androids aren’t the clean cut and emotionless machines he once thought they were.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 88





	Blink If You Hear Me

**Author's Note:**

> heyy it’s me again, catering to myself lmao. there’s a pattern to my fics i know but i can’t stop it lol 
> 
> anyways!! enjoy this chapter that’s been sitting in my tumblr drafts for like a month (please ignore the title i’m so bad at naming these but like...LEDs blink yellow or red...ethan’s LED blinks..idk it’s fake deep 😔)

Mark sighed as he sipped his coffee in his too-big kitchen in his too-big penthouse apartment. The dark space was lonely, the only comfort being his beloved dog Chica, who was currently sleeping in her room. Yes, his dog had her own room, but in Mark’s defense he had too much space and Chica needed her privacy as a growing lady. It was currently 5am, much too early for anything exciting to be happening in the streets below. His apartment overlooked the whole city, the bright lights and constant motion put him at ease at times like this. When he felt so alone and isolated that he could almost imagine he was on an entirely different planet. 

Of course, he knew he was fortunate to live lavishly and have such an important and well paying job, he just couldn’t help but be a little selfish and self-pitying in the early hours of the morning. Normally at this time, he would be only just waking up to start his day. Today though, he was waiting on some stranger from an honestly shady website to deliver a domestic-care android to his apartment. Don’t get him wrong, never in a million years would he or anyone he knew predict that _the_ Mark Fischbach, one of the most adamant advocators against the commercialization of androids, would own his very own robotic assistant. That was one of the biggest reasons he’d bought from a third party of sorts. He couldn’t let it get out that he had purchased an android, let alone a domestic-care model. None of his coworkers would ever let him live _that_ down; everyone knew single guys often bought this specific model solely for sexual purposes and he didn’t doubt people would be fast to spread rumors. So, here he was, waiting on some guy with a garage of used androids to show up and hand over Mark’s newest purchase.

The dark haired man wasn’t proud of his decision, but he trusted a machine programmed to care for kids and dogs and family more than he trusted any human off the streets. To be perfectly honest, he couldn’t trust any person that would even agree to watch the cheerful golden retriever. His high postition at a controversial business could lead to any sort of negative outcome, and he wasn’t about to take that risk with Chica. 

A knock startled him out of his deep state of thought and he glanced down at his watch: 5:30. The guy was fifteen minutes late but this probably wouldn’t take too long anyways. Mark grabbed the envelope of cash— two grand, which is exceptionally cheap for an android of this model— and stalked towards the door. He let his hand rest on the lock and reconsidered for the final time whether this was really his only option. _Of course it was, why else would he have done this?_

Letting out a slight huff of annoyance with himself, Mark opened the door and was met with two beady eyes and a greasy ponytail, “Nice to meet ya. Named Paul, you ordered the android?” Mark nodded, peeking behind the man to try and catch a glimpse of the product, but Paul quickly blocked his line of sight, “I don’t show til you give me the money, after all, you know this thing’s used.”

“Fine,” He couldn’t help his clipped tone, this guy was just rubbing him the wrong way, “Here’s the money, two grand, as promised.” The creepy man smiled and rubbed his dirty hands together.

“Pleasure doing business with ya, oh and... this one might act a little weird at first, I don’t really get paid enough to wipe the shitty thing’s memory so you’re gonna have to deal with it’s problems.” 

Mark bristled, “You said this was in prime condition—” He was cut off by a grimy hand in his face, Paul’s nose scrunched up in irritation.

“Physically it’s up to date, but ‘psychologically’,” he used his hands to air quote the word— they both knew androids didn’t have emotions or anything, the term was probably just more convenient, “He was fucked up by his last owner or something, just try to be patient, he really does work well.”

Mark nodded, he supposed he could deal with a few minor malfunctions, as long as Chica was safe with it, “And it’s still safe around kids and dogs?”

Paul nodded, “Oh yeah, if anything, it’s better than most, trust me, if you’re looking for a caretaker, this one’s a winner.” He waved, signaling the end of the conversation and walked down the hall, revealing a small android in his wake.

Mark snapped his fingers to get it to look up, making the android flinch. His face twisted in confusion, was this the malfunctions Paul was talking about? “Let’s get inside, I have to leave to work soon.”

The android followed him into the foyer, eyes never leaving the ground. Mark scoffed, “Can you talk?”

The machine looked up timidly, “Y-yes...” It wrung its hands together, a strangely human habit.

Mark reached out to tilt it’s chin up, “You have a name or something?” He didn’t want to have to name it too considering he’d already have to call a cleaning service, the thing was filthy.

It opened its mouth, “Ethan,” took a deep breath, or what was meant to resemble a breath, and continued, “I’m a SR800 model desgined to best suit owners who need domestic care and companionship. What are your personal needs?” It slipped into the small speech like it’d been practicing it since the day Paul got his hands on it. It probably had, since Paul couldn’t —well, was too lazy to— wipe the memory cards of the androids, he’d want them to seem as high quality as possible reguardless of their used state.

Mark nodded, refraining from rolling his eyes at the professionalism of the machine, “I need you to watch my dog, Chica. She needs to be walked every day at least a mile and fed in the morning and afternoon. She has a play date tomorrow with my good friend Amy’s dog which I will expect you to be on time for. You are to clean the house and keep everything orderly when I’m not here. Any questions?” he watched as Ethan’s LED flashed yellow as it processed the information.

“Yes, sir. Are there any parts of the living space that are off limits to me?” It appeared to have trouble with eye contact, staring pointedly at the ground when addressing Mark. Maybe he could get that fixed.

The man grimaced slightly, “Just call me Mark. And no, you’re allowed everywhere, but for today just stay in the kitchen until the cleaning service gets here. Then Chica should be ready for breakfast and her walk.”

Ethan nodded and promptly strided over to the barstools lining the island that separated the living room from the kitchen, taking its place next to them. Mark nodded, feeling slightly put off by someone who looked so human obeying him so easily.

“I’m going to get ready for work, I’ll be leaving around six fifteen and coming back around five.” He walked back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and walking to the bathroom for a quick shower.

At exactly six fourteen he exited his bedroom in a full suit and tie, shoes nearly shining in the dim lighting of the space. He grabbed his coat off the coatrack near the door, it was colder than usual lately. Ethan was still standing compliantly in the kitchen, barely moving except to blink and breathe though it had no need for either. Mark waved a quick goodbye and stepped out of the apartment into the hall.

The cleaning android should get to the apartment at seven, meaning Chica will probably be woken up a little earlier than usual, but he supposed one off day for her wouldn’t be too upsetting.

The walk to the train station was uneventful, small flakes of snow falling from the sky and melting immediately when they hit the ground only leaving a shiny film over the sidewalks and the cars lining the busy streets. The blue glow of the magnetic tracks from the trains above only served to make the atmosphere seem colder and greyer. 

Mark smiled, this was his favorite weather. He loved when the sky turned grey and the air became too cold to even think about going outside without a coat on. Normally, Mark was always hot, his friends and family always jokingly said it was because of his quick temper, but he claimed it was his warm heart. This was sarcastic, seeing as the man was one of the least affectionate people on the planet. The only person he was even remotely physical with was his best friend, Amy. 

Speaking of which, a head of dark brown hair popped into his view as he approached the rotating doors of their office building. Her bangs perfectly framed her rosy cheeks and wide smile, she ran up to him and immediately bombarded him with questions.

“Did he come in? What’s he like? Is he pretty?” She was the only other person who knew he had gotten an android, the only person who he wasn’t embarrassed to tell.

“It came in this morning— the guy that brought it was creepy as hell,” They swiped their cards and flashed their IDs at the security guards, though they already knew who they were, “Apparently it has some “psychological” issues, but he promised it would still be safe around Chica.”

He glanced down and saw a frown wrinkling Amy’s brow, “He’s not an /it/ and don’t air quote the word psychological, they have emotions, it’s been proved so many times and the amount of complex thought—” She stopped and swatted Mark’s arm, the man having been miming his hand along with her short speech.

“Until I see it, I don’t believe it. As far as I’m concerned it’s a machine meant for one thing,” he paused seeing Amy’s disapproving glare, “Fine /he/ is a machine and all he has to do is walk Chica and keep her company while I’m not home.”

The brunette sighed, “Yeah and you almost never are, you’re not even gonna be there for Henry and Chica’s play date.” They turned down the hall leading towards the marketing branch where Amy worked, Mark’s office only a few doors down though he was part of the administrative board.

“Hey, the meeting was last minute, plus you’ll be able to meet Ethan so you’re welcome.” 

Amy gasped excitedly, “He has such a cute name! I can’t wait to meet him.” Mark nodded along and opened the door to her office, “How chivalrous.” She snarked.

Mark laughed loudly and turned to walk to his own office, he actually had a very busy day and couldn’t get behind schedule if he wanted to get home on time. 

The door was silent as it swung open to reveal his large, lonely office. The large windows taking up the farthest wall did seldom to open up the room. He sat in his desk chair— which was so uncomfortable it should be a crime— and settled in to do his work for the day.

He had a stack of paperwork precariously piled on his desk. Most of it was just formalities— things that needed to be approved for sale like new android models and accessories. This is where the “controversial” aspect of his career came in; for example, some people were firmly against his authorization for sex androids, claiming it was detrimental to their psychological health. Obviously Mark didn’t give a rat’s ass about how the androids felt— they were machines— but with the number of petitions filed against his decision, he was forced to halt the production. The funny thing was, people were completely fine having domestic androids do their every bidding and thousands of other models to take up the jobs no one wanted, but as soon as he tried to commercialize a model for an android specifically for sexual fulfillment, they immediately flooded his inbox with petitions and opposition. He didn’t like the idea of commercializing androids in the first place, why invent a machine to look like a human if you want to treat it like less than? That’s why he felt like he was walking on a thin tightrope between “OK” and “Inhumane”. And while Mark was firmly against the commercialization of androids, it was a growing business that was reshaping the world. And he could either change and adapt with it, or get left behind wallowing over his own ideals about the innate wrongness of their human likeness. 

It’s not like he had any room to talk anymore anyway, he had his very own android sitting in his apartment, probably getting around to finished with being cleaned. Mark had made sure to also get the service to do a system check to see if any parts or software needed updating— just in case Paul decided to lie to him about Ethan’s physical functionality too.

He sighed and began his long day of filing papers, switching between signing and placing papers in a folder to send to Amy later on. Time seemed to move so slowly he swore hours had passed when he glanced at the clock: 9:45. He had, give or take, seven hours before he was permitted to clock out. He couldn’t remember why he had ever agreed to this job despite its hefty pay. Mark had grown up with androids slowly being integrated into society, they were always there, but now they were much more advanced than they had been when he was a child. He had wanted to go into the research field on android programming and behavior, but ended up at the top of the marketing and commercial branch instead. Sometimes he would do idle research on one of his large monitors, or skim through online forums that speculated about android “emotions” and whether or not they were founded in any real science. There were some convincing articles but since Mark had never seen anything to prove it to him firsthand, he stood firmly by his belief that androids were simply machines programmed to act and say certain things at certain times.

He fell into a hazy pattern of signing and filing until his clock rang, signaling both noon and his lunch break. He jumped up from his chair, glancing proudly at the stack of papers he’d been able to work through until only a quarter remained, and made his way towards Amy’s office. When he got there, she was nose deep in what looked like a familiar article about the latest breakthrough in the studies going on about android emotions and mental processing, Mark would no doubt hear about it during their break.

“Excuse me ma’am, you better not be doing that on company time, I might have to fire you.” Mark joked, stepping lightly into the room.

Amy jolted, having been completely immersed in the words in front of her, but quickly recovered, “Har har, I’d like to see you try and fire me now that I know your biggest secret,” she walked over and leaned in conspiringly, “Y’know... _Ethan_.”

Mark glanced behind himself at the hallway, thankfully finding it empty. He whipped his head back to her, eyes glaring but not heated, “I’m serious about not letting that get out; people are already jumping at chances to find dirt on me.”

Amy smirked but placed a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I would never _actually_ leak secrets about my favorite coworker.” He smiled fondly at her and stepped aside for her to lead the way down to the break room. There were vending machines down there, but Mark usually didn’t eat anything from them, who knows when the last time they were stocked was. The pair makes it to the small room with a single round table in the center and a small refrigerator and microwave on a long table in the back. Amy sat down first, pulling out a sandwich and water bottle from her purse.

“So, how’s the paperwork up in your fancy office?” Amy teased, she knew Mark hated being reminded how lush his work space was compared to the other employees.

“Ugh, going fine I guess,” Mark tore open the Clif bar he had brought and bit into it, “I only have a small stack of papers left, but then I have a couple board meetings.”

Amy groaned, “If you have a small stack left then that means I’m about to have a big ass folder to sort through.” Mark snickered and nodded.

“Sucks to suck.” 

They finished the rest of their meal in comfortable silence, occasionally starting small conversations that started after one of them saw a particularly vulgar post online, leading to both childish adults giggling uncontrollably, or when a cute puppy post popped up.

The thirty minutes flew by, of course, since it was the only time of the day they weren’t doing excruciatingly boring paperwork. The pair got up, Amy excusing herself to the bathroom shortly before reaching their offices, leaving Mark to finish the short journey alone.

The rest of the day dragged on, long stretches of time separated by handing an annoyed Amy a large folder and attending several meetings to discuss things that honestly could’ve been conveyed by a simple group email. Five rolled around eventually, the clock on the wall catching Mark’s eye as the hands landed on his favorite marks: the twelve and the five. Packing a folder of documents he’d have to bring home to read into his briefcase, the man shut off the computers and lights in his office and exited. 

He waved goodbye to Amy, who, as usual, was staying late because she actually enjoyed filing through hundreds of documents and papers on androids. She was in her element and, honestly, Mark was jealous. He would give anything for his days to not be as monotonous as they were, but he only had Chica to look forward to and she was at home. Speaking of home... his work didn’t end at the office today, he’d have to talk to Ethan about the schedule for the week and where Amy’s apartment was for Chica’s play date with Henry. 

He stepped out onto the busy sidewalk, androids and humans all milling about, likely heading back from work or running small errands. He had to pick up some dog food and produce at the store, so Mark hopped onto the nearest mag-bus he could find, the blue lights at the bottom emitting a low buzzing noise that he associated with the end of his work days. It was particularly crowded today, seeing as it was Friday and also a three day weekend. Monday was some holiday to celebrate the technological advancements the country had made. Surprisingly, Mark actually had this holiday off, save for the meeting tomorrow, which meant more time to spend at home with Chica or at Amy’s to catch up.

He swayed forward as the mag-bus came to an abrupt halt, the passengers for the first stop got off and a few newcomers made their space within the crowded bus. After reaching the grocery store, he quickly made his way in and grabbed everything he needed. Shopping was always fast for him because he knew exactly what he wanted and where it was, he was rarely tempted by the wide variety of goods they had along the shelves and by the entrance placed specifically to trick customers into purchasing last minute items. However, today a bright yellow sweater caught his eye, _that would fit Ethan perfectly_. Mark didn’t know what hit him, he had never really thought about anyone else as selfish as that sounded. Why would he? He lived alone and besides Chica he wasn’t responsible for anyone else. 

Nevertheless, he plucked the sweater off the rack and continued on his path. Within ten minutes he had everything he needed. He checked out— the cashier androids were especially efficient today— and got back onto a nearby mag-bus. The short trip to his apartment went by in a blur, before he knew it he was standing in front of the elevator, waiting with arms full of groceries and contemplating at what point the stairs would be faster. Finally, the elevator chimed and he stepped in, ready for the long ride up to his penthouse apartment. That was one of the downsides of living in his nice apartment: every time he got groceries his arms would be ready to fall off by the time he got to the top floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mark stepped out into the hallway lined only with expansive apartments and stepped up to his front door. He waved his watch in front of the lock on the left side and toed the door open once he heard the resounding _click_.

When he entered the apartment, he made his way over to the kitchen and placed the multitude of bags on the counter, “Chica?”

Normally the dog was falling over herself to get to Mark after work, he couldn’t help the small worm of fear that squirmed in his stomach. He took his shoes off and padded towards the living room, heart beating quicker than when a printer had exploded in the room next to him at work last year.

“Chica? You h— ” He was knocked to the ground by a mound of yellow fur, a wet tongue slobering across the man’s face, “Ooh there you are, I was worried for a second.”

He sat up, giving her a few more rubs before standing. Ethan was standing a bit further down the hall, lingering near Chica’s bedroom door as if unsure if he was supposed to be seen.

Mark smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly, at the android, “Were you guys in her room?”

Ethan nodded and stepped closer, moving slowly and deliberately, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t stay in the kitchen, Chica wanted to play after her walk...” It— no _he_ — cast his eyes towards the floor, something flashed across his face that Mark couldn’t recognize before he looked up again and it was gone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, why don’t you come sit with us in the living room? I want to talk to you about some things.” He turned on his heel and lead the way out of the dim hallway to the brightly lit living room, taking a seat on the sage green couch.

Ethan followed closely behind Chica, “Do you want me to, um, to sit next to you?” Mark glanced up from where he had been watching Chica roll around and his breath stuttered in his throat.

The android stood timidly in front of him but bent down to pick up the dog toy Mark didn’t even notice he had dropped. Ethan was pretty. Not just pretty— fucking gorgeous. He hadn’t been able to tell when he first saw him because of all the dirt and grime Paul had left on him, and then in the darkness of the hallway, but now that he did...shit.

Mark shook himself mentally, “Sorry, just uh, remembered a meeting I have to schedule for Tuesday.” That was a lie but Ethan didn’t comment on it, “But yeah, have a seat.”

The small android sat lightly on the cushions next to Mark, looking as if he could jump up at any sudden movement. Maybe his balance coordinator was broken or something, which reminded him, “What did the cleaning service say about your physical condition?”

Ethan figeted his hands together, again his weirdly human habit showing through, “She said nothing was wrong, I’m in peak physical condition, but if you wanted to customize my appearance, you can do so.” He glanced up at Mark again, never seeming to be able to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“Oh perfect,” he paused, “I don’t think I want to change anything about how you look though, you look great.” His eyes widened as his mind caught up with his mouth, “Er— y’know like...good condition.”

Ethan’s lips twitched upwards, the closest thing the man had seen to a smile on the robot’s face since he’d met him. The small android drew in a small breath, or whatever he was doing when he mimicked a breath, and replied, “I’m glad you think so, sir. Would you like me to begin making dinner?” He stood, waiting for instructions.

Mark smirked, “Just call me Mark. And actually if you wanted to help me make dinner that’d be great, but first, I got something for you at the store.” He walked over to the bags on the counter, pulling out the bright yellow sweater.

Ethan’s eyes widened, “You...you got that for me?” He sounded absolutely floored, like he couldn’t imagine someone doing something nice for him. That made a curl of emotion settle in Mark’s chest but he pushed passed it and smiled.

“Yeah, thought you might want something of your own...if you don’t like it—” 

“No!” He snapped his mouth shut and stammered out an apology, “S-sorry, no— I love it.” Mark handed the soft piece of clothing over and Ethan looked like he might cry for a second.

The man chuckled lightly, “Want to go put it on while I put the groceries away?” Ethan nodded vigorously and stripped off his shirt, revealing soft skin and lean muscles. Mark blushed, he didn’t expect him to get changed right here, but turned around to begin putting the groceries away regardless.

He hadn’t gotten much, just some produce and other miscellaneous items he’d remembered he’d run out of. Ethan stepped into the kitchen, immediately drawing Mark’s eyes from where we was sorting out the cheese drawer. The dark haired man opened his mouth, standing still for a second before gathering his bearings.

“That fits you perfectly!” He smiled, earning a shy expression from the android who walked around the counter to help put away the remaining items. 

Once everything was stored away, Mark turned to the other, “Do you eat food? I know we just signed a new patent for androids who can process food but...” He trailed off, waiting for Ethan’s response.

“No, I don’t eat,” he twisted his hands together once again, “I-I can make dinner for you though, what would you like?” He sounded eager, and Mark supposed he /was/ designed to do domestic chores around the house like cooking, cleaning, taking care of children, things like that. But he couldn’t have a clear conscious letting Ethan cook him dinner while he lounged around. Plus, this was his time after work to wind down and forget about the paperwork waiting for him in his briefcase; long documents that could be summed up in one paragraph, but for some reason extend for pages.

“No that’s okay, really,” he hesitated when he saw the android’s crushed expression, “I mean— not by yourself. I’ll help you.” Ethan immediately perked up, though he didn’t fully smile, he walked to the fridge with more energy than he’d previously had, flinging the doors open and rummaging for ingredients.

Mark smirked and sauntered up behind him, “Hate to break it to you,” the robot flinched violently at the sudden closeness of his voice, but Mark pushed passed the twinge of worry he felt, “But you don’t even know what we’re making.”

Ethan turned around with a blush, “S-sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself, what would you like?” His hands were folded primly in front of him, heels together and his posture was rigid; he was clearly awaiting instruction. Mark had almost forgot he was a machine. 

“Uhm... hm.” Mark shrugged helplessly, “Hoenstly, I have no idea. What do you want to make? I could go for anything.” 

Ethan’s eyes widened slightly before his face morphed into confusion, “What do I _want_ to make?”

The older man frowned slightly, it was almost as if no one had ever asked for the other’s opinion— maybe no one had, “Yeah, sure. Take a look at what we have and then tell me what you want to make and how to make it.” He smiled, standing aside to make an exaggerated invitation towards the pantry.

The small android stood still for a moment, his LED blinking yellow, before walking quickly over to the large pantry. He scanned the contents of the small room within a second and immediately picked what ingredients he needed. 

Mark hummed, glancing at the robot’s full arms, “What’re we making?” 

Ethan gently placed everything on the counter then turned to Mark with those soft doe eyes, “I elected to make spaghetti, a time-friendly and widely popular meal across much of the U.S. population.” 

The dark haired man smiled fondly at the small burst of information, contrary to this morning, he found the professionalism kind of cute. Maybe he was just getting used to having Ethan around, “Sounds good.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Ethan occasionally placing a gentle hand on Mark’s arm and advising on a better or easier way to do something. Overall, the older man found he was enjoying the other’s company; he had spent so many nights alone in his apartment, too tired to make anything but a bowl of cereal. Having Ethan around felt like seeing the first bloom on a rose bush— he hadn’t appreciated his apartment until something bright and beautiful appeared, cascading a new light on everything in the large space. The large kitchen that had seemed sterile and lonely now glowed with movement, the ingredients scattered across the counters and Ethan bouncing from the stove to the garlic bread he was making, humming a small tune to himself as he worked. 

Mark stood near the sink, working on washing the multiple bowls and cutting boards they had used. The whole apartment smelled delicious, and Chica hadn’t left her spot near the entrance to the kitchen for the entire time they’d been cooking. She knew she wasn’t allowed /in/ the kitchen, so she simply sat with her small toes barely pushing the line between dining room and kitchen while the pair worked, occasionally sniffing the air and wagging her tail.

After only about fifteen minutes, Ethan tapped his shoulder lightly, “Dinner’s ready.” His voice was timid, the small burst of excitement was gone from him. Mark wanted to bring it back. 

Mark placed the last bowl on the drying rack and placed the towel back on its hanger. On the stove sat a small batch of spaghetti, clearly measured out to serve one or two people. 

“This looks great!” He piled the red sauce over the mound of noodles he had on his plate, “I usually watch a movie while I eat, that OK?” 

Again, Ethan looked surprised, “Do whatever you’d like, sir- sorry! Mark, you told me to call you Mark.” He flushed and shifted back a bit, eyes trained on the floor.

“Hey, it’s alright, here’s what we’ll do— I’ll pick the genre and you pick the movie. How ‘bout that?” He smiled at Ethan while he rounded the kitchen island and made his way to the couch. He wanted the android to feel comfortable, not like Mark was his _owner_ but more like a friend.

The young android nervously twisted his hands and complied, setting himself down softly next to him on the couch.

“Alright so I’m thinking horror,” Mark started, glancing at Ethan, who looked more and more nervous by the second, “Unless you don’t like that?” He finished questioningly, unsure if Ethan just didn’t like the thought of a scary movie or if he was thinking about something else.

The android sat quietly for a second, his LED blinking yellow as he presumably thought of a movie, “The movie IT had the highest rating among viewers, although The Ritual also ranked fairly high on multiple websites.”

Ah, so he was searching the web. Mark hummed, “Well, which one do you think we should watch?” His eyes tracked Ethan’s still figure, his chest rising and falling with each artificial breath. He looked so real...but Mark couldn’t let himself believe that, it wasn’t healthy. The person next to him was a /machine/ with no emotions, no empathy, only programmed to react a certain way to outside stimuli. Mark knew this and yet...there was something different here, he just couldn’t place it. Maybe he’d been listening to Amy rattle on about androids too much lately.

“I think we should watch IT,” Ethan concluded, dragging the older man out of his thoughts.

“Alright, I’ll start it.”

Mark leaned back into the soft cushions of his couch, resting his feet on the coffee table in front of them. The spaghetti was magnificent, probably the best thing he’d eaten in a while. Actually, he could bring it in for lunch tomorrow, it would save him some time in the morning.

An hour into the movie Mark had set his bowl on the coffee table and pulled his feet up next to him. He could definitely feel the exhaustion from the day catching up to him. He reached over to pick up the remote, but stopped abruptly when Ethan flinched— _hard_.

“S-sorry! Uh... why don’t I run you a bath?” Ethan stammered as he stood up shakily, “Baths are statistically proven to lower stress and relax the body.”

The small outburst of information was still endearing, but Ethan’s jumpiness unsettled Mark. He felt like there was something he didn’t know.

“Are you okay? Did the movie freak you out?” Mark asked gently, not wanting to startle the other any more than he already did.

The android shook his head quickly, “No, I’m fine...just need to shut down and file the day’s experiences into my hard drive. Um— long term memory for you.” His lips tilted into the _barest_ of smiles. That was enough to soothe Mark. “So did you want the bath?”

“No, it’s ok, I think I’m just going to head to bed and shower in the morning.” He stood, his back cracking obnoxiously as he straightened it out, “I wrote Amy’s address on a sticky note on the fridge, take Chica there around eleven or so. I should be back by the time you get home, if I don’t show up at Amy’s.” 

Ethan nodded and stood, stepping over to gently wake Chica up. Mark blushed as the smaller caught him staring and smirked lightly.

The older man smiled, happy to have gotten rid of the anxious look on the other’s face, “Goodnight.”

He felt Ethan’s gaze burning into his back as he walked to his room. As he turned to close the door, he saw his small figure walking towards Chica’s room, who followed him sleepily. He’d do research on Ethan’s specific model tomorrow in between meetings, maybe figure out why he was so jumpy.

But for now, he needed about a million years of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hell yeah, the plot is gonna be thicker than ethan by the end of this 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! i’m excited to finish writing the next chapter :D


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